Intelligent Direction
by egochan
Summary: This is a fic about Fate, how you cannot ignoreavoidkill Fate, and the ultimate power of Temptation over everything. KuroFay
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Intelligent Direction  
**Characters:** Love, Lust, Kuro, Fay, the beaver (who has no specific name, sorry)  
**Pairing:** KuroFay  
**Series:** Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle  
**Genre:** General/Humour -crosses fingers and weeps-  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** This is a fic about Fate, how you cannot ignore/avoid/kill Fate, and the ultimate power of Temptation over everything.  
**Warning:** Love and Lust plotting devious interventions? Of the homosexual?  
**Notes:** This is my first submission to the LJ commu 31days. ;; Enjoy? -panicks, has heartattack, dies-  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own TRC. But, I own the beaver.

May 13 : Love passed into the House of Lust

Love was cordially invited to Lust's seashore villa in Palm Beach to discuss current events over coffee and uncertain other refreshment. Lust was a crummy host, too enthusiastic and rude to the point of senselessness, but Love was one in a habit of forgiving and overlooking most flaws.

Lust was doing well for itself, the villa said this much. As Love, Lust could be a bit scattered, but without Love's reserve and resignation. Lust got whatever Lust wanted, and Love would settle on mutual agreements and the promise never to bring it up again. This didn't make Love a better entity by any means, but it managed to make Lust look bad.

"So, how's the farm?" Lust asked. Love did not own a farm. Ponies and puppies were Love, but Love was not a pony or a puppy. Nor did Love own any.

Love smiled, which was predictably beautiful and stimulating as the smile of Love was expected to be. Lust felt the odd compulsion to skip out a moment and write sonnets. "Oh, I'm fine," Love said. Then, Love tripped over the doorstep.

Whoever had coined the first "fall in love" had not taken into consideration that Love was more likely to fall on you. It was true that Love was blind. Like a bat, but without the echolocation. Lust wasn't so much, seeing that Lust was very particular about what it desired where sight helped to discriminate. Lust believed Love earned more accolades from being so eternally handicapped.

"So, I'm going to just let out it out there now and let you know that I've called you here for a reason of impending severity," Lust began after directing Love to coffee and placating Ripper, Love's massive sight dog, with a delicious femur. "I assume your dog likes femur?"

"Well, if you don't have something like liver, then he most certainly enjoys the femur."

Lust sighed. Three thousand years trying to please the mutt, and Lust could never win. Once Lust had brought a beautiful bovine and suggested the mutt choose a portion, only to hear that the mutt preferred lamb. Much to Lust's chagrin, however, the mutt devoured the bovine anyway. Mutt was a frightening animal, mindless and destructive, suggesting Love's own dangerous character in such consumption as the thrall.

"Well, that's fine," Lust said, though nothing was. "But, about that reason if impending sincerity."

"Yes?"

"Well, it's impending, you know. I would like to know what you think." Lust stopped then and poured Love more coffee. "See, it's about a couple I've been watching."

"Of course." Love nodded and searched the table for the biscotti. Silently, Lust inched the plate nearer and pretended not to notice. "You've always been such a voyeur. Temptation does terrible things to you."

This was wisely said since Lust was currently unhappy and feeling victimised concerning relations to such a close friend as Temptation had always been. Love knew what it took to gain affection, and in saying this was able to gain it. Suddenly, Love was understanding and on Lust's side. It helped Lust to relax.

"I know, and it is Temptation that drew me towards this couple originally. I'm ashamed, but I just can't ignore them. It's dangerous, but I just can't care about the danger."

"They sound interesting," Love agreed. This prompted Lust into a passionate explanation.

"Oh, they are plenty beyond merely interesting," Lust said, then smiled wickedly. "That's ridiculous. You wouldn't need to see them, but for the record, they are both delicious. Graceful, blond, fair. Dark, toned, exotic. Both are searching, shelled, and crazy when it comes to the other. I've been watching them, planning an intervention of my own and what fun it would be. Maybe you'd step in later, maybe not. It was all very exciting. Temptation did good. But then…." There was a pause. The glazed, happy expression dimmed slightly, and Lust continued. "But then, I got the memo that they are not of the same world, which makes things more…complicated. From past experience, we know that paring individuals from separate worlds can devastate reality. But, they are so delicious, and I am so strong about what I want. I simply cannot approach this reasonably."

Love nodded sympathetically. "And you want me to hold you back?"

Lust shook its head. "Of course not, but the worlds bother me. Now, the standard way to deal with this is not to cause forces that can destroy the universe together, but when were those interesting?" Lust brightened a little. "You know me, I tempt Fate."

"I thought Fate wouldn't have dinner with you."

This was a dark subject for Lust. "That's because Fate's a bastard," Lust snapped angrily. The genuine concern of Love cause Lust to elaborate. "Still having the on-then-off-again with Temptation, if you must know. They're both bastards, though it's Fate's fault. Temptation's good for a few drinks and a means to my sort of end, if you understand. I just have to keep saying they should break it off, but it's still all Fate's fault. Fate's a bitch." Lust stopped here and began adjusting the table settings. After moment, Lust said, "As you see, it's quite a tender subject."

"I'm so sorry."

"Of course you are, and we all love you for it."

"Naturally," said Love.

There was another silence in which could be heard the sound of the mutt cracking the femur and plunging greedily onward to the marrow. It was a sickening sound, but Love smiled. Lust became uncomfortable.

"So, how does your infatuation with this pair concern me?" asked Love since Lust was then rendered speechless in disgust. "Certainly, having never heard of them, I'm not affected. What are their names?"

"The names are Fay and Kurogane." Lust shook and turned away from watching the mutt. "You know their companions, Sakura and Syaoran."

Love considered this and agreed. "Yes. I know those two and Kurogane well. I know a little of Fay D. Flowright, also. Why do you find them intriguing? They are typical. Everything to them is typical. It was never my opinion that you would enjoy such types. You can find them anywhere."

"But not these two," Lust assured. "There's something different. Something waiting where I can't see it, but I know it's there. You of all should know that something does not have to be tangible or seen in order to sense its presence."

"You're speaking too disjointedly for your nature, Lust. Why?"

"Well, what's a relationship without a little lust?" Lust asked, once more with the mischievous smile. "All I'm saying is that it will help me sleep, especially with the damn memo, if you kind of take a hand in this after a while. Not right away, you know. Just, whenever. As long as I know that you're there."

Love considered this, staring blind and thoughtful at the table between them. Lust waited and toyed with an uneaten biscotti besides its coffee. Finally, Love said, "Well, I'll plan on it if I can. Are you certain Temptation is the only thing driving you?"

"What else could there be?"

Love laughed a charming, adorable laugh that caused Lust to imagine birds and musical instruments and bright spring days. Upon hearing it, the mutt halted his slobber in order to not interrupt, and Lust's mind meandered into the realm of composing ballads. Love chuckled again, as though reading the thought. Thus was the strife in consorting with Love, reasonable thought was abandoned.

"There could be many things, my dear. You're just so crazy about this that you don't know. And you would call me blind."

"Oh, shut up," Lust snapped. There was no reasoning with Love when Love got in the mood to flaunt itself as the superior emotion. It was hard to know what Love expected of anyone, much less oneself. Love defied definition and predictability, and yet was limited in variety. Lust, being more for the moment, could never predict such things. "Maybe you don't know what you're talking about? I only follow Temptation; I fall into seduction. Don't tell me what I don't know or see, because I don't care to know or see. I want gratification. Everything else is means to an end."

"Yes, and we all love you for that."

"It would be your fault."

"Naturally," Love said, again.

Elsewhere, in a lush forest surrounded by singing birds and woodland creatures, sat the men Kurogane and Fay D. Flowright discussing fate with a beaver that'd just suffered a near-death experience and was thus feeling philosophical.

"Sometimes it's nice to believe that a person has no control of life and that all the most important decisions are made by much more intelligent forces that really know what they're doing," the beaver said. "I mean, I make my dam, I eat and sleep and am comfortable, but there was someone who decided for me that I would not die this day. I could have never had made that choice."

Fay giggled and smiled at the creature, too pleased with its cuteness and serious demeanour. "Oh, but Beaver-kun, have you thought how hopeless it is?"

"What is hopeless? There is only fate we must all accept. Nothing will change. There is no escaping how things are meant to be."

"That's a little depressing to me," Fai admitted. "But I see how you believe it. It would be nice to not take blame for anything."

The large man who was the shadow above Fay and the beaver, who was named Kurogane, only grunted. Fay looked at him inquisitively. It was a look that threatened to begin pleading and grabbing in the most undignified manner until Kurogane explained the cause for his grunt. "I don't like the idea of something controlling my life," Kurogane said. "I don't care about escaping my fate or anything. I don't know who thinks they know me well enough to direct my life for me."

"I bet someone does," Fay said with a grin. "Just to make you wrong. It's irony."

"He's right," the beaver agreed quickly. "Someone greater than everything directs us. Entities of emotion direct us accordingly. You cannot avoid them, whether you acknowledge them or not. You can hate, but they give you hate. You can love, but they channel love into you. It's all intelligent direction."

"It sounds confusing," Fay said. Kurogane did not say anything, since he came from a land of many gods who were open for petitions. He could understand the multi-bodied system, though it wasn't his own. Fay, however, had no strong experience. Fay had whatever was his own personal ideology, and it was likely several times more complicated from sheer stupidity than the beaver or Kurogane's learned order of the universe.

"Because the world has a set fate, it is possible also to tell the future and impossible to alter the past," the beaver said, adding a sagely tone. "I shall demonstrate the telling of the future."

Kurogane sighed and looked away hopelessly while the beaver began searching through nature for the appropriate instruments of divination. With Fay's enthusiastic help, this took ten minutes. Kurogane had hoped for longer.

"And now I will decipher from these branches and stones the future." The beaver raised his paws and one by one began tossing the stick and rocks into the air. He waddled in a circle, launched a few rocks off his tail, and then chanted in beaver gibberish. Satisfied with the mess after a few more rotations, he began to explain the future. "Love passed into the House of Lust…Temptation Captures Fate. There's something about a Mokona. There's a King under the ocean and a witch with long hair. Natural disaster, war, general turmoil. There's my near-death. Some more horrible things. Love. Some twins. And finally a little bit of whistling magic from Mr. Fay. It's so pretty."

"Thank you," said Fay.

Kurogane blinked. "What the hell?"

The beaver shrugged. "Don't ask me about it. I recite."

"But some of that sounds like the past to me," Kurogane said, speculative. There was a part of him that refused to validate the future told by a beaver.

"Well, yes. The past was once the future," explained the beaver. "I am not telling the future from now, but the future in general. All that is once never was, you know. Like that."

Kurogane's frowned deepened and he began to stand. "This is a waste of time."

Fay and the beaver tried to convey to Kurogane that this was indeed not a waste of time, was interesting, and was completely worth his afternoon. Kurogane was not responsive to them, but turned and began to walk away. Fay ran after him, and the beaver remained shaking his head hopelessly.

Nearby, Lust watched and chuckled softly to itself hanging upside down from a tree. Love, on an opposite branch, sighed and patted the mutt in its lap. "I'm still not certain about this," said Love.

"I didn't invite you to spoil my fun," Lust said peevishly. "I invited you to justify it."

Lust's childishness earned a small smile from the benevolent Love. "Fine, then I will see what I can do," Love said and left the tree. Lust laughed, elated with the thought.

"Now for the real fun," Lust cheered and followed.

**Endnote:** This is my only fic to date that used no itallics whatsoever. -proud-


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Intelligent Direction  
**Characters:** Lust, Anger, Mutt-Love's-dog-as-an-actual-character  
**Pairing:** KuroFay  
**Series:** Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle  
**Genre:** General/Humour :crosses fingers and weeps:  
**Rating:** PG-13-ish (language)  
**Summary:** This is a fic about Fate, how you cannot ignore/avoid/kill Fate, and the ultimate power of Temptation over everything.  
**Warning:** Devious interventions? Of the homosexual?  
**Notes:** Well, see, I cave under peer pressure. Everyone was just so delighted with the first chapter. What else could I have possibly done? I am a slave to the whims of the tickled.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own TRC. I don't own anythng really mentioned in this fic, thoughI have throw away many a toothbrush before it's time.

Ch. 2

7:35a.m., Chicago, Illinois. The alarm snoozed for nine minutes and began again, heralding to the world that the lifeless lump in the bed beside it ought to have been up forty-five minutes ago. It was the fifth time the alarm had sounded that morning, and someone very touchy was going to miss their train.

"Meh. Stupid alarm…" the lump murmured and reached blindly towards the nightstand for an extra nine minutes. Sometimes the hardest thing about the day was merely getting up at the appropriate time to face it, especially since the appropriate time had a nasty habit of being far too early for reason.

"Wake up," another voice said briskly. The door was slammed open and the lights switched on. Somewhere in the far corner of the bedroom, a radio began playing loudly. "Getting up early doesn't kill people, but it makes them irritable. You've always seemed the irritable type to me, but then, I'm not as excellent a judge of character as Love or Temptation. With someone as irritating as you, I assumed it was a facet of your personality. What do I know?"

The lump, Anger, grumbled and pulled a pillow over its face. "Leave me alone, dumbass. So, I decided to cancel our coffee. Just beat me over the fucking head with it, why don't you?"

"Before you cancel," Lust said, yanking the pillow out of Anger's hands, "it's customary to call instead of standing me up."

Anger sneered, feeling smug. The question was hopeful: "Were you angry?"

"How do you feel right now?" Lust retorted.

"Like I want to punch your ugly face off."

"Well, you get what you give," said Lust. It was the classic rejoinder when putting up with Anger. Anger's sole purpose in life was to get a rise out of all those around it. Thus, Anger was more annoying than Love because it was a victory for Anger if you became annoyed.

"Who do you think you are, barging in here at the crack of dawn, rousing me from my slumber, and then making your prissy little comebacks and demands? To believe that I used to think highly of you, Lust. It's ridiculous."

"Oh, shut up. When I say we need to talk, meet me over coffee, I mean it. I even settled on Starbucks because I hate that place, and it would make you happy. Now, get dressed. I've suffered chai latte waiting for you, and I'm not letting you get away with it."

Anger chuckled gleefully to itself as it relented and tumbled out of bed. Lust, Anger saw, was looking dapper as usual. It instantly pissed Anger off. Since Addiction had introduced Anger to the intoxicating fury of the caffeine habit, Anger began to long for the missed coffee and hated Lust for not bringing something. It was just like Lust to be so insensitive, wasn't it?

"Oh, and when you've cleaned up," Lust said, knocking its thumb towards the door, "I've got your caramel-mocha cappuccino ready for zapping in the microwave."

Anger bristled. Why would anyone want Lust's damn microwave coffee? And was Lust insinuating Anger had some form of caffeine problem which, if there was such a problem, Anger was perfectly capable of quitting, so Lust was simply assuming far worse than reality. Everyone also knew that Anger loathed caramel-mocha cappuccino, but mostly if it was bought by someone named Lust who wore really nice clothes all the time.

Just who the hell did Lust think Lust was?

Anger stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door. Lust sighed and shook its head. From the bathroom there could be heard Anger's frustration in discovering there was no toilet paper, finding the hot water was out, realising there was no towel, and dropping the only toothbrush in the garbage. For Anger every morning was a traumatic memory.

"Hey, Lust. Get me a towel, would you?" Anger yelled through the door. Lust roused itself from television and checked the linen closet.

"Urm. It doesn't look like you've been keeping up on the laundry. How about a pillowcase?"

Anger swore and hit the door. "Fine!"

Lust wasn't sure what to do to resolve Anger's natural tendency to be angry, but only shrugged and grabbed pillowcases and bed sheets. He knocked. "Here you go. Sheets."

"You're a moron," Anger snapped, opening to door enough to take the linen from Lust. Five minutes later Anger was in the kitchen, looking like a little defeated Caesar sipping a cappuccino. "So, what the hell did you want to talk about? If you're here to tell me that the lawn festival war in Picket Garden Realm is your fault, I don't want to hear it, and I'm not going to help you."

"Oh, this has nothing to do with Mr. Stubb's petunias. I've been letting Guilt deal with him for now. He wasn't as interesting as I though he'd be in the end."

"I'm so sorry for you," Anger said with the sincerity of a Ebenezer Scrooge donating to an orphanage to improve his PR sometime before his December epiphany. Not only did Anger lie, but lied of something it would never feel for anyone but itself in a bad mood.

"Has Love told you about what I want to talk about?"

"Do I look like the sort of frilly-minded, skippity little moron who goes cavorting in the company of such a disgusting emotion?" Lust had to admit, Anger looked stressed and ugly, a slumped figure with a permanently blotched face. Nothing was skippity or frilly-minded about that. "Hell, no. First you wake me up at an unholy hour, and then you want to dress me in my bedding and insult me. Don't be stupid, Lust," Anger paused a moment, "Well, if you can help it, that is."

Lust calculated the damage of a sudden impact of the toaster and Anger's sour face. Lust decided against it out of fear that it may improve Anger's overall appearance.

"Remember the fax I sent you yesterday? I was wondering if you could help me some in what I was telling you about," Lust said. "Not out of the goodness of your heart or any desire to help me, certainly, but because if you don't, then I'm going to have to ask Love to intervene and make my request a bit more clear. Do you want to have to deal with Love and Mutt?"

Anger didn't believe what Lust was threatening. It was ridiculous. "How they Hell does a half-assed emotion like you get Love and the damn Mutt on your side? You're bluffing."

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to demonstrate."

"You're an idiot to hope that."

Lust only shrugged and pulled from it's breast pocket a small metal instrument, into which it blew three sharp breaths. In the distance there was thunder and disembodied screams. A wind picked up, and Anger could recognise the situation it'd been in only three times before.

Mutt was coming.

Anger didn't right away accept what was happening--didn't think it would ever be possible. It was _Lust_. Lust was weak and stupid and totally incapable; almost as unreliably as Insanity and Deception, who for the past fifty years had been trying to advocate a new emotion, Insaception, for the lies of the mentally insane. It was too stupid. Lust, meanwhile, was frantically wondering what the whistle sequence for "heel" was.

"Behold," Lust said triumphantly, playing off his inner doubt with confidence. This was broken when Lust yelped as something large and highly combustible exploded down the block outside the window. Somewhere far off, there was an chorus of ambulance sirens. The Earth trembled and so did Anger and Lust.

Mutt was getting closer.

"Send him away, you moron!" Anger shouted, running to the window and trying to lock it down. "You're gonna destroy Chicago." A wind rose in the same moment with unexpected strength and knocked the latch from Anger's grasp by binding Anger in a tangle of curtains. Anger swore and turned back to Lust, who was looking outside in a strange mixture of victorious and a little sick, the wind blowing through its hair with dramatic and attractive intensity. Anger was confident Lust was going insane from the power trip and terror. There was a confused but undoubtedly vicious sneer and closer to the building a baby began to scream and cry.

Mutt had arrived.

Fifteen stories below, Anger could hear the thunderous click of Mutt's claws on the lobby floor. The odour of Mutt filled the building, a horrid, rancid breath and wet-dog smell. The toilet began to gurgle and flood. Anger could only watch and wonder frantically what to do. An elevator dinged and slide open. Mutt stepped inside because it beat the time and effort of the stairs. Anger swallowed.

"What do you say?" Lust asked pleasantly, smiling now and having lost complete control of itself. The tone did not fit the aura of dread that surrounded the city. Faintly, Anger perceived a waver in the words, but Lust held the whistle. Obviously, Lust was the only one who stood a chance, and Lust knew it.

Anger hesitated. Lust wasn't in complete control but depended on the whistle. Anger played with the idea of somehow relinquishing Lust of this authority, and again the elevator dinged. Outside in the hall, several sharp claws snagged along the carpet towards the apartment. Anger's heartbeat synchronised with the sour breathing. The door shook and there was a scratch at the corner.

Mutt was waiting to be let in.

"Fine!" Anger said, "I'll do whatever you want. Don't let the damn Mutt in here, you fucking psycho."

Lust smiled brightly and blew again into the whistle. As the skies cleared and the wind abated, Lust turned to Anger and helped him up and out of the curtains. "It's so good we can come to an understanding," he said, shaking Anger's arm warmly. "I'm looking forward to your cooperation."

Anger could only glare angrily and wait for the doomsday that was clearly at hand.

**Endnote:** Well, my friend Waffle and I have this joke that Anger is really the PMS entity. Those are some major mood swings. I argue against Waffle, however. Anger is actually based on my dear sister when she is PMSing, not my dear sister or PMSing themselves. More, them working together. Nifty?


End file.
